Hallelujah
by only-because3
Summary: They'd had a similar conversation the day before. Her basically telling him in coded words that they were done. And it's always shortly there after that she's in his bed. BC


So this is my first attempt at a Gossip Girl story and I really hope I did at least okay. Again, this one is for Corey(I seem to just keep churning them out for her huh? lol). So again, I really hope y'all like it since I'm really iffy on it... I don't think I did that good but eh, what more can I do? Oh, this a TV version btw... and Blair/Chuck lol

She got out of the taxi she had taken to the Met and was currently waiting for Chuck who had called her to met him there. She sighed, obviously annoyed at having to wait and began wondering if they'd be going back to one of their houses. She hated that it was so back and forth between them but more importantly, she hated that Nate was still playing a part in all this. She loved that boy, she really did, but she never felt what she had with Chuck with Nate. The constant sneaking around was getting a little too movie-esque for her; wearing big glasses and tiptoeing, always casting side glances to make sure no one would see them.

She heard someone clear their throat behind her and it was then that she caught the smell of his cologne. She turned to face him, surprised when he held out coffee for her to grab. She didn't say thank you because it wasn't necessary, or maybe because she felt as though she'd already thanked him enough for other things. "So what do you want Chuck? I have to meet Nate soon so I can check his tux."

He smirked. "We could always get together on the way."

She scoffed before taking a sip of her drink which was made exactly to her liking. "I refuse to be 'in public' with you again." He raised his eyebrows, mumbling 'It's your choice'. "So what did you want?"

He reached into his sweater pocket, extracting the thin bangle bracelet that she instantly recognized. Nate had bought it for her 16th birthday and she remembered how disappointed she had been. It hadn't been on her list and was actually quite repulsed when she first saw it. But Nate thought it was perfect for her so she had slid it on her wrist, a perfectly fake smile on her face. "Nate almost saw it this morning. You shouldn't be so careless with your things."

"I am not careless with my things. I've had these earrings since I was ten," she retorted loudly, showing him the sparkling diamond stud that graced her earlobe. She started to motion to the necklace he had given her that laid surreptitiously behind her sweater and thin jacket. She stopped herself though, scared that he might take it as some sort of sign that he means something to her and he doesn't.

Not that she'd admit it if he did.

"You love those things. You're not careless with the things you love." It was absolutely true, she wasn't. She wasn't careless with Kitty Minky, or her diamond studs she had received for her tenth birthday or with Serena. "I also have your underwear in my pocket but, we wouldn't want to be careless would we?"

She rolled her eyes and handed the coffee back to him. "I'm going."

"You know I find it funny that you won't be late for Nate when he makes you wait," he called after she began walking away. She stopped mid step and turned around to look at him. She hated it when he did this. Nate was good for her. Chuck was not. Yet he made it so she only wanted him.

"I was raised properly. I treat people the way I'd like to be treated." He laughed and she expected this. She could be down right evil to people, but it had been the only excuse she could think of. "I was early meeting you wasn't I?" She turned to leave but he grabbed her wrist, twisting it in his hand to see the time on her diamond encrusted watch.

"You have time," he replied cooly and she feverishly tugged her wrist from his grasp.

"Leave me alone Chuck," she spat out with as much disgust as she could. She needed to stop doing this dance with him. She needed to push him out of her mind completely so she can focus on what mattered: going back to how it'd always been. Her and Nate.

He watched as she slowly slipped away from him. The look in her eyes should've been enough to tell him to let her go, stop being a jackass, and just let her come to him when she's ready. _That's_ what he truly hated about her. That she could get so close to him and then turn the other cheek, leaving him suspended in mid air. He hated that she practically had the upper hand in whatever the hell they were doing and he _really _hated that he let her and that he _cared about her_. So the words left his mouth but not before he masked the feelings that were really behind them. "Do you love me," he asked in that annoying voice that she had come to hate over the years.

She scoffed, ascending one more step so that she could look down on him. "No."

He followed her up the step, grabbing her waist and pulling her closer to him. Her face went unchanged, that pissed off, in control facade still there. But the look in her eyes was pleading with him to let her go because being seen in public with him in that embrace was risky. Her cranberry lips stood out against her soft pale skin and his mind trailed back to when his hands roamed her body in the back of his limo. That was the first time he had kissed those lips and touched her in a way that only Nate came close to. He leaned forward, his hand moving from her waist to her chocolate locks as he tried to kiss her. And for a second, she almost let him. She missed his touch, as much as it disturbed her, and she wasn't sure why. Chuck Bass used to thoroughly disgust her but now she craved him. Maybe it was because he actually paid attention to her in a way Nate never did. Or maybe it was because she had officially lost her mind.

Yes, that was definitely it.

She pushed him back hard, causing him to lose balance and fall on his ass. "You nauseate me," she said in that articulate way that she'd always been taught. She walked away faster that time, leaving him on his ass on the cement. She needed to meet Nate. She needed to erase this.

Chuck slowly rose on to his elbows, watching the brunette strut away and half way smiled. They'd had a similar conversation the day before. Her basically telling him in coded words that they were done.

And it's always shortly there after that she's in his bed.

* * *

She walked into the home she shared with her mother tiredly. The afternoon she'd spent with Nate had bored her to death and Serena was off doing something with Dan. She could call up Kati or Isabella but she didn't think she could put up with their shit either. She shuffled upstairs and went into her bedroom before collapsing on her bed. She rolled over on to her back, closing her eyes tight. Eleanor walked past her open door and then stopped, peering in to see her raven haired daughter sprawled out across her queen sized bed.

"Blair?" She didn't move just laid there with her eyes shut and her body limp. Her relationship with her mother has been permanently strained since the fiasco that was Thanksgiving and she doesn't want to deal with it. She doesn't want to talk about the horrible lies that coarse through the Waldorf household or the _feelings_ that she has. She's tired of all that therapist bullshit that never helps.

Her mother walked into the room and sat down at the edge of the big bed, patting Blair's leg almost affectionally. "Blair I know you're awake." She paused, like she was unsure of what to say before sighing inwardly. "Are you alright?"

She wanted to scream that she wasn't alright and hadn't been for a long time but that would open up too many old wounds that she has meticulously worked to keep sewed shut. Too many bad times, too many tears, too much of everything that would definitely come up. So she rolled on to her side, politely answered yes and that she just had a headache, before she scooted a little further away from her mother's touch. She heard her mother sigh heavily, perhaps sad that Blair wasn't letting her in. And that somehow made her feel the tiniest bit better because then her mom could feel the slightest bit of pain that she felt.

When Eleanor left the room shortly there after, Blair bit her lip hard. Her mother acting motherly had been enough to bring up all the times she hadn't been just that. All the times that Nate had screwed her over, all the times that she had been made into the fool. She really wanted to let it out, to cry like that quack of a doctor had told her to. But she doesn't because Blair Waldorf doesn't cry. She does not show emotion and she does not let _feelings_ get involved.

Silently, she slipped back on her boots and grabbed her bag, heading over to the one place she knew feelings didn't exist.

At least not out loud.

* * *

He lounged in his suit at the Palace, twirling the tumbler full of scotch in his right hand as he stared into the blackness of the tv screen. His mind swirled with thoughts of two brunettes, both of which he loved with all his heart. One was slowly slipping away and the other, well, he'd lost her a long time ago. He opened his phone, half expecting his father to send him a message or call, half knowing he wouldn't talk to him about what happened so long ago. He slammed the phone shut and turned his attention back to the present.

Life had been so fucking blah since he got tangled in to Blair's web. He didn't want to go out to parties unless he knew she would be there and hated when she would brush him off. God, he was pussy whipped. He'd never acted like this towards a girl ever. He was Chuck fucking Bass. He fucked every girl who'd let him and told them to leave his room before ten the next morning.

He sighed heavily because he knew this would never have happened had she not danced at Victrola in those damn 5 inch heels, let her dress drop to the floor, and locked eyes with him for most of her sensual dance. None of this would have happened had she not leaned over and kissed _him_. This was all her fault. Stupid Blair Waldorf.

He heard the door slam shut and he looked over at the woman who just entered the room. _Speak of the devil..._ "Waldorf," he began but she cut him off, shaking her head.

"Do not say a god damn word Chuck," she warned him, her voice steady even though inside she was slowly breaking. She collapsed down on the bed next to him, her purse and jacket already in a pile next to the bed. She left on her boots, the black suede a stark contrast to the new white sheets that adorned his enormous bed. It was ironic, the pureness of the sheets and blanket that is defiled by the acts the commit between them.

The two laid next to one another for a moment, quiet and barely touching. They laid next to one another with the feelings no one knew they had, hers of complete emptiness and his with such a craving for love. The two who seemingly had everything who, really, only had one another. They both reached over at the same time, his hand in her hair, hers on his chest. That day had been equally horrid for the both of them and this was when they could try and forget.

He removed her sweater, softly pulling it over her head before he moved his fingers to the pearly buttons on her dress. They both remained silent as they slowly stripped down. Blair had always found it odd how sensual it was with them. It was slow, barely ever rough, and careful. Oh so careful. Like they were almost afraid the other would break. It was extremely uncharacteristic of the both of them, but then again, being with each other, like that, was out of the ordinary.

He rolled on top of her, their naked bodies flush up against each other and that's when he saw the tears pooling in the corner of her eyes. He was torn between asking her how she felt, because despite what she'd told him, he did care, and ignoring the watery brown eyes. She closed her eyes and he leaned down, kissing each one softly. "You're different today," she mumbled against his lips.

"It's the twelfth," he stated before he entered her and she gasped in pleasure and realization. She hadn't remembered until he said it. It had been that day ten years ago that Mrs. Bass had died. It was times like that that Blair felt guilty. She had a mother who, now, was honestly trying to be a mom. Yet Chuck'd never really gotten the chance to _really_ know his mom. She moved so that now she sat on top of him. She pushed into his hands that moved up and down her body, moving with him as he moved in and out of her.

This was when they weren't who everyone thought they were. This was when they let their guards down. The _only_ time they would let their guards down. It was when she let her tears fall freely and it was when he told her he loved her. It was when he wiped away the salty liquid from those perfect cheeks and when she returned his words.

When they were done, she still laid on top of him, their sweaty bodies sticking to the expensive sheets. It was then that the walls went back up and when they knew to forget what had just gone on between them.

* * *

As she sat at the end of his bed, pulling her thigh-highs back on, he lit a cigarette and watched her flawless body move. "You're something else," he mumbled hoarsely before taking a drag of his cigarette.

Blair turned around after slipping on her panties and gave him a raised brow. "What do you mean," she asked, crossing her arms underneath her naked chest.

He shrugged, releasing a mouth full of smoke, making his vision of her cloudy. "I just find it funny that you say you don't love me yet you keep coming back." It was true, she only said those three words to him when he needed to hear them the most. Every other time though, three other words would leave her mouth. _I hate you._

She laughed and shook her head as she picked her bra up off of the ground. "That doesn't mean I love you."

"Then what is this? Girls aren't this comfortable with casual sex."

"Yet here I am initiating it every time," she said, walking over to him as she hooked her bra. She took the cigarette that rested in his mouth and placed it between her lipstick smudged lips.

"You just don't want to admit you love me," he responded cockily, grabbing his pack of Camels off of the bedside table.

"I don't," she repeated before taking one more inhale and passing it back to Chuck before he could extract another.

"Then say it."

She sat down next to him on the edge of the bed and leaned in so that she was a few inches from his face. Slowly, she blew out the toxic smoke before smiling. "I don't love you."

"Could you?" The question was quick, leaving his mouth as soon as she closed hers. It surprised her, her brown eyes going wide and her lips parting. Her answer should've been immediate, the word 'No' should've left her mouth without a thought. Instead she was silent, the shock on her face gone and replaced with one conveying no emotion.

Chuck brought his hand up to her face, running his thumb against her cheek so softly that Blair had to close her eyes. It still amazed her that there could be this side of Chuck. The almost sweet side that makes her forget for a moment what he's really like. But then she snapped back into reality and pushed him away. She shrugged as she slid on her dress. "Probably. In a different world where it'd be okay." She looked almost regretful as she said it.

He nodded his head, understanding what she meant. They couldn't be together. It wasn't right, not in the society they lived in. She was meant for Nate, and he to forever be a bachelor. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward him, searching her dark eyes for something he had come to see much more often. _Like._

He moved forward and placed a light kiss on her red lips and then let her go.

She left immediately after that, with just a quick glance over her shoulder at him before shutting the heavy white door that she would frequent for years to come.


End file.
